


the descent into hell is easy

by hyuckyang



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shadowhunter Chronicles Fusion, Enemies to Lovers, Knowledge of the Shadowhunter Universe Is Not Essential, M/M, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Shadowhunter Mark Lee (NCT), Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Violence, Warlock Lee Donghyuck | Haechan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-12 13:33:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19230139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyuckyang/pseuds/hyuckyang
Summary: Dealing with warlocks was a challenge Mark definitely tried to refrain from — the only challenge really. He stays away from them as much as he can, no matter how much their magic and knowledge could come in handy. Then, unexplainable things start occurring in their city, and he finds himself relying on a certain (cocky, overly confident and blunt) warlock for some help.





	1. INUSITATUS

**Author's Note:**

> this all started off by a low effort thread i made on twitter and my ''i miss malec'' feelings. now, here we are.
> 
> NOTE: a dictionary of shadowhunter terms are at the endnotes of each chapter. i'll update the list each time a new term comes up, in case anyone needs it.
> 
> DOUBLE NOTE: if there is something that i will have to tag, i'll make sure to tag it at the notes in said chapter. for now, all i can say is that it /will/ be intense sometimes. please take that into consideration.

 

_“Descensus facilis Averno est: The descent into Hell is easy."_

 

Heavy droplets of rain fall on top Mark’s skin as his body lurches through the shadows of the night. He can clearly hear frantic footsteps crashing against the puddles scattered around them behind him between the deafening sound of the rain. He would like to imagine that whoever was behind him could handle a little bit of rain, but he could never be too sure with the newbies. Some of them just didn’t carry the same drive as him. Personally, he enjoyed the extra hit of adrenaline that came along with the dramatic scene, it made their duty seem somehow more exciting.

 

‘’We are getting closer,’’ Mark didn’t bother to turn around, eyes set solidly on the figure that ran a couple of feet in front of him. The only acknowledgment he receives is the sound of footsteps that speed up behind him.

 

'Closer' was a vague description because this particular demon just had to be that annoying by being a shapeshifter on top of all. This was a difficult challenge because not only was the skies open wide above them, where the rain just refused to stop, but also because they were running in the midst of a mundane filled street. The risks were too high — but that’s where their invisibility rune came to use.

 

As they are running, his invisible body collides into drunken teenagers, rushing mothers and angry salesmen making their way home. The thought of him being so close to their personal space, where he could feel and hear them clearly while he was nothingness was, for some reason, a concept he never truly grew non-weirded by.

 

Mark snaps out of his thoughts when the demon changes shapes yet again, this time around into a red-haired woman, which is a difference from the earlier elderly Asian man vessel. If this was years ago, he might have lost the demon several aisles ago, admitted defeat as the hideous, shape-shifting demon would’ve been far too advanced for his skill, however — his eyes were too trained to easily spot the black fog lingering around the air nowadays.

 

“Gotcha,” he pulls an arrow from the quiver attached to his back and shoots the shot blindly by muscle memory in the direction of the now familiar red hair. The rain is so intense that it clouds his vision, but judging by the sudden thick smell of literal death that fills the air, he deems it another job well done.

 

—

 

“Heard about your little run around with the shapeshifter last night.”

 

Mark drops the sword in his hands, resulting in a slight _thud_ sound as it hits the mat underneath him. A smirk mold on his lips before he even turns around to face the intruder of his workout session. “If you think that running around in the rain for three hours while searching for that  _thing_ is ‘little’, then by all means.”

 

Jaemin, his best friend (more like his brother) picks up the sword he had just dropped moments ago and twirls around with it in the air, skillfully. “No need to flaunt around your _Terabetai_ , Markly. I just came to tell you good job. That bitch drove us nuts.”

 

As much as Mark wants to suppress the grimace that falls on top of his facial features due to the childish nickname, he can’t. As Jaemin continues on with his sentence, the grimace turns into something of a thankful gaze. Without even having to thank him out loud, he knows that Jaemin already knew how he felt judging by the smile that is lingering on his lips.

 

“How about we go for a little face off?” Jaemin suddenly challenges with a raised eyebrow. The sword in his hands comes to a halt right below Mark’s chest, near the area of his stomach. He can feel the metal tip of it slightly poking into his skin with every breath that he takes. “It’s been a while since we played around.”

 

By memory, Mark knows that there are five swords lined up against the stands just three feet away from him. He can make it there in just a matter of a heartbeat since Jaemin was too busy staring into his eyes to notice that he was attempting to move. There is also his beloved arrow set by the entrance, but that’s too far and also — the Clave has specifically forbidden him for using it inside the Institute.

 

(Long story short: a fellow shadowhunter from another institute sneaked up on him one night, which resulted in a horrible life-threatening injury. What was he supposed to do, let a potential enemy wander freely in their own home?)

 

“It’s on,” Mark nods and bends his body just enough to reach out for one of the swords, which one of them doesn’t really matter much. The second his fingers graze against the leather grip, he makes sure to grasp a tight hold on it and pulls it forward with as much force as he can possibly gather.

 

Clicking sounds from the collisions created by the metal swords soon fill up the room, perhaps even the rest of the Institute. The noise was nowhere near foreign to the vicinity, hell if it passed two hours without it you could only start assuming the worst.

 

This is when Mark felt the best. It wasn’t when he was slaughtering demons, chasing reckless vampires or even when he was making sure that the werewolves weren’t wrecking the forests surrounding their city. No, it was when he could physically feel the time stretch out as Jaemin and he worked on elevating their skills by helping each other out. Their ability levels weren’t far different from each other, they just had mixed good points which is the reason as to why they are such an undefeatable team. While Mark was most comfortable with the bow and arrow, Jaemin liked to fight his battles close hand.

 

It’s nearing midnight when they leave the training area with sweat covering the vast majority of their clothing. Mark was sure that Jaemin was wearing a light grey shirt when he emerged into the training room, and not the drenched deep dark one he was currently sporting.

 

“What’s the intel?” Mark asks as he rounds the main table of the working space. Almost at an immediate, Yukhei pulls up the hologram that shows several monitors from various spots from around the city. This time, they were completely vacant, unlike what he had hoped.

 

“Seems like it’s a quiet night so far. Jaehyun ran out to deal with a lone vampire that attacked a Mundie. Pretty sure he just turned,” Yukhei answers with a shrug. After last nights mission, most Institute members wished for a silent night in hopes of regaining back their strength for whatever mission was supposed to come, so Mark can only assume that the rest of them felt great about the news.

 

“Do we have any idea who might’ve turned him?” Mark inquires, as his clammy hand starting scratching his chin in wonder. The vampires have been laying low lately. He couldn’t think of anyone who would do such reckless things, especially with some of the Clave members roaming around the city. Business in Idris has started to branch out as of late, meaning that all creatures should be — must be — in their best behavior.

 

Yukhei shakes his head. “Not really. When Jaehyun got to the scene, the vampire was too weak to talk. I’m pretty sure he is interrogating him right now.”

 

’’It’s odd that he is without his clan so early in his transformation,’’ Mark averts his eyes back to the transparent screens, where he is greeted with emptiness, unsurprisingly. He lets his shoulders slump up in defeat, which earns him a loud giggle from his two friends. “Alright, let me know when you find something.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of doing anything else, boss,” Yukhei smirks at him as he swipes the holograms to the side, leaving the table clear once again.

 

—

 

Mark has never wanted to be a normal human being. As far as he could tell, he has never once craved the oblivion that came along with only having pure mundane blood running through your veins. Just the simple thought of imagining what it would be like to live in a world without downworlders, demons and angels was far enough to leave him feeling unsettled.

 

Back when they were young, when their first runes were still a foreign site on top their skin, Jaemin had asked him whether he wished to experience the simplicity that came along with humanity or not. He remembers how off-guard the question had taken him, not because he didn't know his answer — but because of the fact that he couldn’t envision not living this way. It’s like asking a crow whether or not it wanted to fly after it had spent its entire life being taught and mastering how to do so. This was his only calling, so why would he even consider anything different?

 

For a while, a strange force got the better of him on an occasional basis. He wants to blame it on Yukhei that has befriended too many mundanes for his own good, which results in hourly sessions of how much livelier their lives were in comparison to theirs. Even though he makes the entire Institute alight with curiosity, that’s far from the truth when it came to Mark. He didn’t need Yukhei’s stories because, in some sleepless nights, he often found himself relieving Jaemin’s question.

 

Of course, if his family even so as to found out about his wandering mind, they would go as far as to strip him out of his runes, no doubt. His father's voice plays clear in his head constantly, reminding him that “ _being a shadowhunter is a privilege, a duty in which you must carry with your shoulders squared up and your head held high_ ” — and not something you have to consider. Being a shadowhunter came with pride, and by the angels' name — you cannot doubt that.

 

Nowadays, now that he is allowed to attend the Clave meetings and is partly the right-hand of the head of the Institute (his blood-brother Taeyong), the thought doesn’t even cross his mind. He was happy, and he was more than proud of his work. He protected their world from the reckless downworlders that caused nothing but sheer trouble most days, and eventually — that’s all that matters.

 

Well, up until he can’t do his duty because there’s  _nothing_ happening.

 

“It’s been a whole week without a single spotting. No vampires, no werewolves, no faes — no nothing? What the hell is going on, guys?” Mark rubs his temples before he lets his hands fall defeatedly on top of the table. If the monitors were made out of paper, he doesn’t doubt that he would’ve already put fire to them with just his eyes alone.

 

“Maybe they decided to make use of their vacation days,” Yukhei grins at his own joke but turns solemn a moment later. “Besides, why are you overthinking this? Isn’t peace and quiet what we  _want?_ ”

 

On the other side of the table sits Jaemin that bursts out into a long-drawn laugh. His eyes crinkle delightfully as he shoots a pointed look in Mark’s direction at the head of the table. “Mark? Not overthinking? Must be an exceptional day if that ever happens.”

 

Mark dismisses the remark kindly and turns back to the monitors. “Am I really the only one that feels suspicious about this? What does Taeyong say regarding this?”

 

The cheeky smiles on Jaemin and Yukhei’s faces drop and becomes replaced by the professional expressions Mark has grown to recognize in moments like these. The ones where Jaemin’s eyes turn darker and Yukhei’s eyebrows furrow up in a pool near the bridge of his nose. “Taeyong is aware of the lack of activity, but he is too caught up with the Clave to fully invest in it. You know how he gets when your parents are in town.”

 

Mark does know, hell, he knows too goddamn well the pressure that lies in the visits of their parents (that they would much rather live without, if he could be frank), which is also all the reason as to why he feels so antsy about their city’s silence. Now that he thinks about it, he has hardly seen Taeyong at all these past days, resulting in a certain  _pang_ erupt in his chest in solidarity for the stress his brother must be going through.

 

“Wow, the atmosphere here is tense. Am I interrupting something?” Jaehyun comes in view as Mark was trying to come up with an answer, which he is more than grateful for. He shoots him a smile that lacks joy, but a smile nonetheless.

 

Yukhei high fives Jaehyun’s open palm with his famous grin making a comeback on his lips. He scoots over to give Jaehyun some space to stand alongside him. “Mark is just feeling bored, that’s all.”

 

“Aren’t we all,” Jaehyun grumbles with a low voice. He heaves out a loud sigh and rests his forearms on their neon-lit working desk. ”The vampire is  _still_ not talking. Says he can’t remember anything that has happened to him, he didn’t even believe me when I told him that he is a freakin’ vampire. I had to wave a bag of blood in front of him to make him somewhat understand, but still — denial.”

 

This surely piques the group’s interest. They shift around the table to get closer to Jaehyun, as a way to urge him on to continue with his explanation. “What do you mean he can’t remember? You said that it seems like he turned about a month ago. That such be more than enough time for him to adjust,” Jaemin says, tone dripping in bafflement.

 

“What could we be dealing with? Some sort of demon that steals memories? Have any of you heard about anything like this before?” Yukhei asks slowly when Jaehyun is unable to provide an answer.

 

A low harmony of non-committal noises breaks out across the table, which makes the frustration levels rise even higher. Especially for Mark, that can  _feel_ his parents dissatisfaction regarding his lack of authority and knowledge around this specific case. It makes his insides turn, uncontrollably.

 

Before he can beat himself up too bad, and spiral into something of an internal battle, Jaemin lights up in what looks like an idea. “Do you guys remember Renjun? The warlock we worked with last year in that crazy vampire den case?” When the group hums in recognition, Jaemin continues. “I can give him a call and see what he has to say about all of this. Maybe he has heard or knows about something similar to this phenomenon. Who knows, perhaps he can help?”

 

“Since when do you rely on warlocks?” Yukhei suspiciously investigates with a flashing glint of wonder in his eyes. It was a well-known fact that Jaemin absolutely hated downworlders, particularly if they came in the shape of warlocks. They are '' _stuck up, think too highly of themselves and quite frankly disrespectful'_ '', is a sentence the whole Institute has heard multiple times before coming from those exact same lips that were actually suggesting to receive help from them right now.

 

“Don’t get me wrong, dealing with them is something that bugs me like no other, but unlike us, they have lived for centuries and are probably much more knowledgeable in such matters. Their knowledge is useful, isn’t it?” Jaemin bites out, clearly annoyed that he out of all people is defending their honor. “Plus, Renjun owes us.”

 

“He’s right,” Mark nods, even if he shares the same disliking to them in some way or another. At this point, he isn’t sure if the venom he feels in his chest is his own feelings or Jaemin’s, their  _Parabatai_ mark can be confusing like that. “Give Renjun a call and arrange a meeting as quickly as possible.”

 

_—_

 

Warlocks can be, for lack of better words, a bitch to work with. Mark has quickly discovered that over the course of years. No matter how much you try with them, they will always be the same greedy downworlders demanding something desirable in return. That’s just how they operated, they were simply selfish creatures that put themselves up on a pedal stool.

 

And maybe they were right for having such feelings because warlocks are indeed different from the rest of them. Truthfully, it wasn’t much that they lacked. They possessed the wisdom of centuries behind them, the power and all the magic they could muster right under their arm. Unmeasurable is the proper way to describe them.

 

Mark feels the intensity of the presence right as he walks into the location is which Jaemin and he are supposed to meet Renjun. It wasn’t unruly, such as the presence of a demon nor as nerve itching as a presence of a werewolf or even like the coldness of a vampire — the presence is solely demanding.

 

“Good evening, gentlemen!”

 

That’s not Renjun’s voice. In fact, it was far away from Renjun’s voice. Sure, he was nowhere near close enough with Renjun to remember his characteristics or how his tone sounds like — but this voice, he most definitely knew well enough.  

 

“Where’s Renjun?” Mark demands, hand hovering over the crystal sword hanging tightly against his hip.

 

”Skipping the formalities, are we? And you guys say that us warlocks are the ones with no manners,” the figure attached to the voice finally emerges from the deep shadows of the warehouse Renjun had directed them to, without an actual single sign of him.

 

The second the small hints of lingering sunlight touches the figure, the differences to his appearance become clear. Last time Mark had encountered him, almost two years ago, he had carried hair as bright red as the Lightwood family necklace. This time around, his hair is dyed in a pearly silver color, far unlike any he has seen before. What hasn’t changed, however, is the layers and layers of makeup around his eyelids and on his cheekbones that illuminate blindingly with the help of the sun.

 

“Donghyuck,” Mark addresses, voice still as stern as before, “Where is Renjun and how do you know that we were supposed to meet here?”

 

The warlock, Donghyuck, throws his head in a long chuckle that bounces against the steel walls. It bounces against Mark’s veins too, and he can already feel anger trigger inside him. He was about to tell Jaemin that they shouldn’t waste their time since they both know how Donghyuck can behave, but to his surprise, Donghyuck speaks up. “Have you forgotten that I know everything?”

 

This time, Mark brings out his sword shamelessly and directs it in Donghyuck’s direction with his head held high. With his confident posture, every sane person would back off, but Donghyuck isn’t like every sane person because he continues on staring at them with the same smug expression. “Chill out, Renjun is on his way. He asked me to join your little party since whatever you guys are dealing with seemed like something up my alley,” he says with a shrug.

 

“What did Renjun tell you?” Jaemin asks, without letting his guard down. They didn’t trust Donghyuck and surprisingly it isn’t just because he was a warlock, but also because he actually reeks of disingenuousness. Something their past encounters have confirmed multiple times.

 

Donghyuck’s eyes flicker between Mark and Jaemin’s stiff postures with a loud scoff. He turns around and flops on what seems to be a sofa that has been created out of thin air. Maybe it has, who even knows at this point. “I forgot how boring the two of you are, I’m already yawni—“

 

“Don’t give them too much trouble, Donghyuck. You’ve already pissed off more than enough shadowhunters to last you for three whole centuries,” a bright orange colored portal opens up, and suddenly the warlock they were actually seeking is standing right there in the center of the room.

 

“You’re late,” Jaemin says, displeased.

 

Renjun shoots Jaemin a look that shows that he could hardly care about Jaemin’s disapproval, but also a look that indicated that this was something that was in his nature. He flops down next to Donghyuck and leans into the cheek kiss he receives from the warlock next to him. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

 

Besides him, Donghyuck snickers, clearly pleased that he has another person that can run on the shadowhunters nerves with him. And it works, it clearly does, because Mark can spot Jaemin’s knuckles whitening around the handle of his own sword, before ultimately relaxing. He shoots Renjun and Donghyuck a small smile and clears his throat. It’s easy to tell that Jaemin was trying his best to keep this civil, because of the fact that they were here on a mission, despite all.

 

“Let’s just get this over with, shall we?”

 

There’s not much to discuss since Mark and Jaemin only knew bits and pieces, which wasn’t a lot, to begin with. Donghyuck and Renjun listen as actively as they can and directs questions here and there to further disentangle what they could be facing. For a second, it becomes easy to put aside all their differences and strictly focus on the task at hand. Mark almost — almost — wants to applaud them for taking this as seriously as they do.

 

‘’So basically, what we have here is a newly shifted vampire with memory loss and a tranquil town?’’ Donghyuck questions, after Mark’s detailed intel. The expression on his face leaves a dissatisfying feeling in Mark’s stomach, which can only mean that whatever he is getting at can’t be good.

 

‘’Yeah,’’ Mark confirms.

 

The sun has long ago started setting, making a cast of oranges and deep pinks invade whatever space in the warehouse that it possibly could. The hues make Donghyuck’s silver hair seem as if it carried a cotton candy pink color to it instead, which is a juxtaposition from the grim look on his face. Mark could tell that he had something on his mind, but was reluctant to share it with the rest of them. It appears as if Renjun was expecting some sort of answer from him as well.

 

Suddenly, he stands up from the sofa and walks over to where Mark and Jaemin are standing. He gives them a small, but tight smile that resembles a grimace more than anything. ‘’I have to think about this for a couple of days. I’ll get back to you.’’

 

Before he vanishes into the portal he suddenly waves open, Mark finds himself reaching out for his wrist as a way to stop him right on his tracks. The gaze Donghyuck gives him is a mix of confusion and surprise, and it focuses mainly on Mark’s hand on him. “You’re hiding something,” Mark states, coldly.

 

There’s a momentary pause that lingers in the air. If sparks could fly, they would mainly be right between the eye contact that Mark and Donghyuck share. Underneath his gaze, Mark feels as if Donghyuck was seeing him for the first time. His eyes give Mark a quick look over, and if Mark’s eyes didn’t deceive him, he would have assumed that he lingered extra much around his eyes. They aren’t strangers, but they aren’t close enough for them to be all ‘up each other’s business’ either. The action surely had taken Donghyuck off guard, hell it had taken Mark off guard as well. “I’m not hiding anything, _pretty boy_. I simply need to do some research, that's it.”

 

Donghyuck truly didn’t have to explain himself, and judging by the looks of it, Renjun didn’t expect it either. He shoots them a look from his place on the couch, a look that bores holes right into Mark and Donghyuck’s bodies.

 

Mark deflates. “A few days, that’s it.”

 

—

 

It’s only the day after their meeting that Yukhei comes rushing into Mark’s training room with eyes blown wide. He doesn’t have to utter a single word before Mark hurries over to the working space, where he finds Jaehyun and Taeyong bundling over the fullscreen monitors.

 

“Werewolves. Completely disoriented. Found naked, presumably newly shifted near _Jade wolf_ without any recollection of how they ended up there,” Yukhei fills him in, and swipes the screen closer to Mark to give him a better view.

 

On the screen is an image that leaves Mark further confused, even with the help of the Yukhei’s description. But confusion isn’t the main emotions his body has decided to focus on, no, it was adrenaline. “They must have known  _something_ if they ended up in the local pack’s establishment,” he ponders, eyes still set on the whimpering werewolves. “Has anyone gone to talk to them?”

 

“Jaemin is. I’m on my way to go there right now. Unless you would like to go?” Yukhei asks, seeming as if he already knew what his answer would be. Mark straightens up and shoots Yukhei a small nod in confirmation.

 

“Before you leave, I need to have a word with you,” Taeyong interrupts their conversation right after Mark agrees to Yukhei’s suggestion. He directs a reassuring smile in his direction that Mark can tell is there simply to make sure that he doesn’t get the wrong idea of why he wants to converse.

 

The walk down the hallways of the Institute is silent. Taeyong, being the elderly brother and the Head of the Institute gets to walk in the front, with shoulders square and head held high. Mark observes the way he walks by every other shadowhunter, the way he greets them with a modest nod and a slightly larger smile. They are brothers, and while they carry so many similarities, they are vastly different as well. Where Taeyong was smooth around the edges, with a soft-spoken voice and empathy that led every shadowhunter to depend on him, Mark was rigidness with a thrive to do well, no matter where his emotions may lie. And Mark was nowhere stupid, he knew that his parents preferred Taeyong over him, mostly because despite Taeyong's humane side, he still got the job done the way it was supposed to, unlike Mark with his unbeneficial urge for impulsiveness.

 

Suddenly, the grey scaled walls of the Institute doesn't seem all that calming so Mark opts to focus on Taeyong’s shoes that step on the concrete flooring with light feet instead. Before he even realizes, they have already reached the hallway with their sleeping chambers.

 

‘’I can hear you worrying,’’ Taeyong chortles and flicks the light in his room on. He settles down on his neatly made bed and motions Mark to follow his tracks. ‘’I’m just here to catch up, that’s all. I miss you, you know?’’

 

Mark nods and allows the tension in his shoulders to contract. He takes a seat next to Taeyong and leans back on the bed, sighing when his back hits the soft comforter. ‘’I miss you as well. How’s it going with mom and dad?’’

 

‘’Same old,’’ Taeyong loses the smile on his face. He swallows in what seems to be nervousness. ‘’They are going back to Idris soon.’’

 

If there was news that Mark was craving to hear, it would be news such as these. He jumps out of his place on the bed with wide, hopeful eyes. If Mark didn’t have some lingering sentiments for his parents left, he would have proudly said that this was the greatest thing he has heard all week, perhaps even all month. But, as Taeyong faces him with a gloomy expression, his happiness becomes nothing but short-lived. ‘’What’s the catch?’’ he asks, because there’s always a catch with them.

 

‘’They want me to go with them,’’ Taeyong carefully says, ‘’As in live there. In Idris.’’

 

Mark throws his head back in a dry laugh at the accurate prediction of his. If he were to put words into his emotions, he would describe it as the feeling of someone dragging a dagger down his veins of his heart. Yet, he refuses to believe — can’t believe — that Taeyong would leave him. Because sure, he has the skills and the control to handle doing this without his brother, but they were a team — and Taeyong wouldn’t abandon him, would he? “No.”

 

“Mark,” Taeyong sighs. “I think I have to. It’s for the best. Being here and taking care of the Institute as well as business with the Clave too much for me to handle. The Clave needs me,” he leans over and places a warm, but burdening palm on Mark’s shoulder. “You can handle it, I know you can. You will assuredly be a much better leader to this Institute than I ever was. You are already practically running this place all on your own.”

 

“Mom and dad ordered this?” Mark swallows down the discomfort following the potential separation from his brother.

 

The smile on Taeyong’s lips returns and it falls onto Mark yet again how much he resembles their mother. There was something about the way their expressions shifted that made Mark lose all the fight in him. He isn’t a weak person, not by far, but family and honor are all he has and if he has to give up on his own longings, then so be it.

 

“They are proud of you for taking this step. You will do great things for our people,” Taeyong says — states — as if it has already been decided. As if Mark had no say in this. The words sound robotic coming from his mouth, and if Mark thinks that Taeyong resembles their mom physically, then he was an exact replica of her with his behavior right now.

 

His sentence stings but Mark nods alongside it, not daring to use his words. Using his words would mean standing up, or worse, going up against his family and it was something so far away from his spectrum. In the midst of his thoughts, he suddenly remembers that Jaemin was probably waiting for him at _Jade Wolf,_ so he grips a firm hold of his beloved leather quiver and points to the direction of the entrance door. “Jaemin’s waiting for me so I better—“

 

“Mark,” Taeyong interrupts. “You’ll be fine,” he reassures. It sounds so much like him, the same old Taeyong he has grown to cherish and look up to, to the point where Mark almost flatters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posting this feels like presenting my child to the world, please handle her with care. i'm still a bit wary about posting this, so please let me know your thoughts and feelings by leaving kudos and comments. i'd appreciate it endlessly..... <3
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/hyuckyan) / [cc](https://curiouscat.me/hyuckyang)
> 
> chapter one dictionary:  
> shadowhunters: appointed warriors on earth to control & preside demons and other downworlders.  
> runes: ''tattoos'' that give shadowhunters abilities.  
> downworlders: warlocks, werewolves, vampires, and faeries.  
> warlocks: ''strongest'' downworlders that possess the ability to perform magic.  
> clave: political body made up of active shadowhunters.  
> idris: shadowhunters' country, hidden from humans.  
> parabatai: an oath (brotherhood) between two shadowhunters that makes them lifelong partners.


	2. DILEMMA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mark is still a :( boy. donghyuck comes with info. jaemin faces a dilemma.

_Jade Wolf_ is a Chinese restaurant near the harbor of New York City. Its location lies hidden between containers and construction machines, and if you are a simple bypasser, chances are, you might miss it. Its exterior is a simple, plain dot in the drawing of their city. Far off the harbor where nobody would even consider taking a walk. But of course, there was a reason as to why. You see, not many werewolves enjoy having their business leaking out in the open and since _Jade Wolf_ only customers came in the shape of barely awake sailors and supernatural beings — the place was perfect.

 

When Mark arrives, it looks the same as it always does: empty, stark and smelling like a mix of soy sauce and seafood. He scrunches his nose a bit as the smell becomes a bit overbearing. “Jaemin?” he speaks as he walks into the restaurant. He looks around and finds it surprisingly completely vacant from any customers, save for the kitchen staff all the way back in the kitchen. They don’t pay him any attention and continue on cooking whatever meal they were creating. ‘’You here?’’

 

‘’Back here,’’ a muffled voice that clearly sounds like Jaemin erupts in the empty area. There’s some muffled whimpering as well, which makes Mark fasten his pace. His feet take him to the storage room, that is usually strictly prohibited for all ’non-werewolves’ visitors.

 

The search to find Jaemin with the rest of the werewolves doesn’t take too long, mostly because growling isn’t easy to miss, even without activating an enhanced hearing rune. He knows that Jaemin isn’t in danger because their _parabatai_ mark isn’t indicating any sort of anxious feelings, but he takes the time to feel it out, just to be sure. He lowers his bow and arrow when he’s greeted with nothing but silence.

 

The storage room is exactly what you would imagine it as. Flickering lights, odd smells, and questionable objects. Oh, and lots and lots of chains and locks. A shiver crawls down his spine as he walks up to Jaemin’s squatting figure at the left corner of the main room.

 

In front of him are the werewolves he had observed approximately an hour ago with the help of the monitors. They look worse in actuality, way worse, with dirt scattered all over their hands and feet and chests decorated in scarring. The scars seem fresh, judging by the semi-dry blood surrounding them. That’s far from the most noticeable thing, they are also half in and half out of wolf form with their glowing eyes, wolf ears, and excessive fur.

 

‘’Their memories are gone as well. I’ve tried talking to them, but I’m not getting anything,’’ Jaemin says, taking the question right out of Mark’s tongue. ‘’They are way too weak to talk.’’

 

Mark hums and squats down next to him to earn a better view. From up close, the depth of their wounds become clearly, and so does their staggered breathing. Especially from the youngest one, a boy no older than their own age with a claw mark right in the center of his chest.

 

”Hey, you alright?” Mark stupidly asks him, eyes trying to maintain eye contact with him. It seems to be impossible because even though he was there physically, his eyes showed that he was unwired mentally. They were not only unfocused but also fluttering shut for every second.

 

“It’s claws from another werewolf. Their precision is pretty narrowed down. This is someone that wanted to hurt them badly — with a purpose,” Mark shoots Jaemin a look when he receives no answer from the practically passed out werewolf. His fingers grace against one of the wounds and nods at the forward scarring of it. Definitely werewolf claws.

 

“Nobody in the local pack recognized them. Johnny seemed pretty shaken up about us assuming that anyone in his pack would be capable of doing such a thing to another werewolf — pack or no pack,” Jaemin shrugs. “I don’t think it was them. They have never given us too much of a problem, why start now?”

 

“I figured that it wasn’t. The memory loss can only mean that whoever was behind the vampire incident must’ve returned, but instead of vampires, they are targeting werewolves.”

 

Jaemin stands up and pats his pants clean from microscopic dust and lint. He kicks a small, empty cartoon out of the way before exhaling out a deep sigh. Even if the room was barely lit up, Mark can instantly see the ponder on his face. “Have you heard from Donghyuck yet? We could try to use his magic to somehow retrieve their memories.”

 

“No,” Mark stands up as well, watching how the life in the werewolf was slowly fading away. The other two had already beaten him to it, with eyes screwed shut and lips parted in soundless snores. “He said that he needed a few days, it’s only been one.”

 

“Well, I hope he hurries. We can’t waste any more time or bodies, for that matter.”

 

—

 

Mark knew that the Institute would change the second the news of his new leadership would get out, but not like this.

 

The following days truly taught Mark what it would be like under the gaze of not only his parents but also the rest of the shadowhunters as well. He can feel their expectations; their demand and need for a great leader, a guide that will hold them strong, the way Taeyong did. For every step that he takes, he can feel eyes boring into his neck. It’s a sensation that’s so foreign but at the same time so familiar to him, just intensified. He did come from a great line of shadowhunters and his family reputation and name has been carried out for decades as some of the greatest shadowhunters, so being looked upon with respect was a regulatory element already in his life.

 

What doesn't change, however, is his friends, which he was more than grateful for. They treat him the same, for better or for worse, making Mark believe that if it hadn’t been for them, he would have lost his senses to insanity before he actually got admitted to the duty.

 

He still trains with Jaemin every morning and afternoon, he still wastes time talking to Yukhei about everything and nothing for hours and he still studies with Jaehyun about unknown demons and magic energies. All in all, the following weekend feels a bit too normal, aside from the obvious circumstances — and of course, Taeyong that is preparing for his departure.

 

”How do you feel?” Jaemin says with a hushed tone as they are watching Taeyong pack around his last necessities.

 

”You know how I feel,” Mark wants to say, but in the midst of all the chaos, a tug sucks up the atmosphere in the room for a sheer millisecond, making him swallow down his words. The tug is created by a yellow portal that opens up right next to the entrance door. He doesn’t take precautions by reaching out for a weapon, because in the middle of their working space emerges a familiar pearly haired warlock before he is even able to do so.

 

“Evening, gentlemen,” Donghyuck says, smile as crooked as ever.

 

Relief washes over Mark, a sensation he never would have assumed he would associate with said downworlder. He rushes over to Donghyuck by taking long strides, strides that can easily be deemed as desperate but who cares when answers he  _needs_ could be right there in the shape of the (annoying) warlock. “Well, what did you find out?”

 

It’s clear to see that Donghyuck doesn’t even bother to hide his amusement at Mark eagerness. Mark didn’t think it was possible, but for some reason, his lopsided smile only grows, almost into a full-on smile but not quite there. “Easy, _pretty boy_. I came here to congratulate you on your promotion.”

 

“What?” Mark staggers in his movements, with eyes blinking in confusion. “What in the seven hells are you talking about?”

 

“Your promotion? Heard your brother is going back to Idris. Must be such gratification for your… ego,” Donghyuck waves his hand around gracefully to further highlight his point, even if his taunting words were nowhere near delicate. There are rings coating each finger, some even bearing a couple of thinner ones, that reflect against Mark’s eyes for each movement. They all look exceedingly different, but for some reason, it all comes together charmingly.

 

Not that Mark would notice, he was too busy rebuilding the unyielding shell he usually stands behind when it comes to interacting with Donghyuck. It didn’t take too long because he finds his fist curled up tightly against his thigh before Donghyuck even finishes his sentence.

 

”How did you eve-, nevermind I don't have the time to deal with this. Don’t you have a job to do instead of worrying about what’s going on in the Institute?” Mark bites back, just as harshly. “How did you even get past the wards?”

 

Donghyuck coos, with eyebrows pointing downwards as if he was talking to a toddler. His hands reach out to pat Mark on the shoulder and retracts it before he would face dismissal. “I created these wards before your parents even thought about conceiving you, _honey_.”

 

The warmth that rises on top of Mark’s cheekbones can only be described as a blush, and he hopes to God that none of his friends are close by to witness this cataclysm. His hand flies up to rub his neck in order to focus on any sensation other than the one  _that_ pet name brought onto him. Sadly, even if his friends didn’t witness it, Donghyuck surely did. He shoots Mark a knowing look, with eyes beaming brighter than the shimmers on his eyelids.

 

“Interesting,” he mumbles, mostly to himself as if he had discerned some sort of phenomenon. He drops his smirk with a cough and straightens up when the tension between them becomes too overbearing. “Very well, moving onto more pressing matters and the genuine reason as of why I came here — I have done some thinking and revisits to old friends and your so-called ‘memory stealing demon’ isn’t what you think it is.”

 

The white sound surrounding them steals all the attention from the massive bomb Donghyuck had dropped on him. Since most Shadowhunters just returned from their training session, loud laughter and conversations about translucent topics fill the room intensely. He can spot Yukhei and Jaehyun making their way down to the working station, so Mark suggests for Donghyuck to follow him to a quieter place before anyone interrupts the feasibly important discussion that was about to take place.

 

After walking with brisk steps away from their original place, with Donghyuck trailing closely behind Mark, they end up in the same hallway that contains Taeyong, Jaemin, and his bedrooms. Nobody goes there except for them, so he deems it a safe enough place to hold the conversation.

 

“What do you mean ' _isn’t what I think it is_ ’”? Mark asks, this time not bothering keeping his voice down since no one was going to hear them anyway.

 

“In the warehouse where you notified me about what was going on, I felt a nagging feeling at the back of my mind that told me that everything sounded familiar. My nagging feelings never prove me wrong,” Donghyuck starts off. He leans back against the shadow grey walls behind him in order to make himself comfortable. “I didn’t even have to search in my diaries to remember what it was.”

 

Mark clenches his jaw, both in frustration but also in bewilderment. “Why did it take you so long to inform me? It’s been four days.”

 

''Excuse me, Mark Lee. I'm doing this because of the goodness in my heart,'' Donghyuck snickers, ''Okay, fine. I've been a little bit bored lately but that's not important. What's important is that I haven't even demanded payment, so you are truly in nowhere fit to start making the rules,'' he suddenly turns serious, as if Mark had mocked him. “Now,” he waves off, “You heard me mentioning visiting some old friends, didn’t you?” Mark lowers his head in answer, which Donghyuck sees as a sign to resume. “One of my dear friends, a fellow warlock, kept an eye out for a greater demon some decades before he disappeared into thin air twenty years ago.”

 

“A greater demon?” Mark repeats, in which Donghyuck nods. “Do you think this is it?”

 

There’s a beat of silence that settles between them. Donghyuck seems to be deep in thought, so deeply that Mark can virtually see the way his brain is working from his place against the wall. He runs a ring covered hand through his hair that flops back down seamlessly against his forehead following the action. “The characteristics are uncanny. The disappointing part is that Ten is too busy canoodling with his partner, so he declined to help us. Says their anniversary is coming up or something. You’d think after being together for decades those things sort of lose their spark, I suppose not.”

 

“Does your friend have any information that might be useful? Somewhere to begin?” Mark focuses on the first half of Donghyuck’s rant. Back when they were younger, when they first encountered each other, he’d always wonder why Donghyuck spoke so much. He always had something to say and it seems like he never outgrew that trait. Oh well, how much can you expect a warlock to mature in five years, especially after being alive for nearly a century?

 

“Well,” Donghyuck snickers. “I walked in on him making love to his boyfriend. Didn’t leave me with much room to discuss,” he grins undoubtedly wider when he sees Mark’s taken back expression. “But I got some information that might help us, my dear overachiever.”

 

So, Donghyuck begins to tell him.

 

 

“He possesses mundies?” Mark gasps in pure surprise. “For why? They possess no strength or any beneficial factors to a greater demon.”

 

‘’I have a theory. I think he might possess them, and in some way, perhaps with the help of allies, turn them into werewolves or vampires. He might want to start forming a following of downworlders,’’ Donghyuck explains. His eyes flicker around with each word as if his brain was currently trying to solve a puzzle and he was simply collecting all the scattered puzzle pieces. ‘’We should be prepared.’’

 

Mark nods and subconsciously wraps his hand around the small dagger hanging tightly against his hips. He can feel Donghyuck’s authenticity because he has never seen him look this.. earnest about any matter, for that fact. It makes reality hit into Mark on a grander scale. He hasn't dealt with greater demons a whole bunch, just some here and there in his 'short' years of being a highly ranked shadowhunter, but that didn't mean that he didn't comprehend them. He might've not been the most academically advanced pupil in their Institute when it came to theoretical material, not like Jaemin, but the information he had was enough to tell him that whatever this is, had to be taken completely serious. If that wasn't enough, then the hours and hours of searching for them in the field proved him plenty.

 

''Mark?'' Yukhei's voice interrupts in the silence, making Mark step back as if he had been caught doing something wrong. He blasphemes the fact that he has been too engraved in the conversation that he hadn't even noticed the sound of footsteps nearing closer and closer. ''Jaehyun is asking for you.'' 

 

''Yes?'' he says once he straightens up. ''What's up?'' 

 

Yukhei's eyes flicker between Donghyuck's smug smirk and Mark's taken back character. He settles down on give Mark a long look, which makes Donghyuck throw his head back in a high-pitched laugh. ''Oh, I can sense when I'm clearly not wanted anymore. I'll be on my way, for now, please resume to your shadowhunter work.''

 

Mark can't even register the wink he throws him before he vanishes away in a portal similar to the one he emerged in. 

 

—

 

One of Mark's secret aspirations in life was to travel the world. Not as an escape, simply to observe if life was the same elsewhere. Even just for a day, he wishes to visit the quiet aisles of Paris or the busy streets of Tokyo. Not that New York City wasn’t anything less than amazing. It’s the city that never sleeps —and god knows that Mark never sleeps.

 

Sometimes, on quiet nights such as this one, he likes to stroll down the streets with nothing but his thoughts, and his invisibility rune activated. No matter how freaky the concept of it was, knowing that you could just hide in the midst of a crowd can sometimes be such a comforting thing.

 

So, he walks for seconds, minutes and if life allows it — hours while inhaling fresh air and exhaling all the stress and worry in his body.

 

With each step that he takes, he watches the dents and imperfections of the ground. The way he walks through grass, concrete, pebbles and so on and so forth. His feet drag him through random patterns, each both familiar and casual. There isn't really a sense of direction in his movements, all he wanted to do was simply to wander. 

 

After the talk with Donghyuck, the only thing Mark craved was some peace and quiet to think. To be able to sort every thought in his brain to its designated folder. He was nowhere near the finish line of this mission, not even after their discussion. Donghyuck is supposed to be the factor that would clear all of this up for them, but seemingly, he is as useless as Mark feels right now. Which begs the question as to why he is still trying to work with him, especially when warlocks are the bane of his existence (only followed by demons). Theories are good to have, but not when theories are the only thing they have.

 

Underneath the moonlight, where he likes to believe that his feelings can't be discernible, Mark lets his guard down and allows himself to sigh out loud. Mid-sigh, something catches the corner of his eye which makes him press the pause button on his rambling mind. It’s a boy; a skinny, tall boy with skin as illuminating as the moon above them. He stands out in the middle of the crowd, and for some, they might pass him off as a troubled teenager — but not for Mark.

 

It’s as if a magnetic pull grabs a hold of him because he finds himself making his way over to the fidgeting body that’s slumped down near the corner of a closed bakery. His feet crash against the damp concrete (a result of a weekend filled with rain) with more force for each step. By the time he is close enough to the body, his breath has slightly turned harsher, and skin warmer. With the help of his stele, he turns off his invisibility tune, making him visible to the world once again. 

 

“Why are you here?” as Mark addresses, the vampire's nostrils flare up as if he had just been awakened. His eyes drift to Mark’s with a high speed, a flash of desperation in them. They scream out the pain the vampire can’t seem to be able to spell out. 

 

“You have to help me,” his voice sounds scratchy, his lack of using it appears clear. “Please,” he continues on begging when he finds his voice again before crashing down against the concrete, harshly.

 

—

 

“Are you kidding me, Mark?” Jaemin stares at him with troubled eyes. “You bought a downworlder.. a _vampire_ to the Institute?”

 

“He needed help, Jaemin. I couldn’t just leave him, could I?” Mark snaps back, gaze strictly at the figure behind the cells in the basement of their Institute. The vampire whimpers, with hands shakingly placed right above his own lap. “Look at him.”

  

Jaemin walks down the resuming steps of the stairs, before striding to stand next to Mark. He still doesn’t show the vampire any sort of attention and focuses instead on trying to figure out Mark’s course of actions. “And you didn’t bother to contact the clan? Doyoung? Yuta? I knew you to be impulsive but this is just so out of your usual behavior.”

 

Mark knew that he acted recklessly, abruptly like a tornado. Even he didn't understand why he had transported with the vampire into their Institute, so really, Jaemin's words weren't far out of line.  The risks are too grand, if the vampire so as to went rogue, chances are someone might get hurt, badly. But, one look into the vampire's eyes was far enough to convince Mark that he was someone that had no idea what was happening to him, and a frequent thought flickered through his mind. 

 

“If he was a part of their clan, don’t you think he would’ve been with them already? He is still a damn fledgling,” Mark ruffles his hair in frustration as the whimpers of the vampire only grow louder. “We have to do something, he’s just a kid.”

 

It’s then Jaemin turns around to face the cell, and just like the rainfall outside of the Institute, his face drops instantly. “No,” his voice wavers. It seems as if he was debating whether to avert his gaze or continue watching the vampire. Eventually, he snaps around and lets out a harsh and equally as loud  _fuck!_ that echoes in the small, dingy room.

 

“Nan—,”

 

“Don’t,” Jaemin trembles as he points at the vampire with eyes filled to the brim with threatening tears. The thin bracelet around his wrist, the one Mark hasn’t seen him without in the past seven years, makes semi inaudible clashing noises because of the excessive trembling. “Get him out of here. Right now,” he sucks in a broken breathe. “Get him out!”

 

“Jaemin?” Mark leans over to place a comforting hand on top of his shoulder, that is quivering the same way his whole body is doing. “Do you know him?”

 

The vampire tries to stand up but ultimately falls down like a bag of potatoes on the cold ground. His lowered head makes an attempt to rise, but the attempt goes avail. So, he crawls with staggered movements until he reaches the metal bars separating him from both of them. “Jaemin, please.”

 

Jaemin ignores Mark’s question and falls down on the ground right in front of the shaken vampire, the only thing between them is the bars. From the side, Mark can easily spot Jaemin clenching and unclenching his jaw. “Who did this to you?”

 

“Can’t remember,” the vampire cries, softly. “What’s happening to me, Nana?”

 

Jaemin swallows down and wipes away the tears that were lingering at the outer corner or his eyes in an attempt to regain back his collected posture. “What’s the last thing that you remember?”

 

The vampire disappears into his brain, as a way to sort out his memories. He stays there, shivering on the ground as he opens and closes his mouth multiple times, before clearing up his throat. “Last night, on my way home from dance practice. I was there a bit later than usual.”

 

“Was anyone there with you?” Jaemin continues on pushing. Mark almost wants to interrupt because the vampire seems a hair strand away from vanishing, but Jaemin was undoubtedly doing the right thing. They have to know if this was their greater demon working his action again or not.

 

“No,” the vampire shakes his head lazily, “Fuck, I really can’t remember anything anymore. Where are we, Nana? What is this place?” It seems like it pains him to even move his lips, but his eyes barely conceal the fact that he was desperate to help Jaemin achieve whatever he was looking for, even if it hurt him. His glossy eyes never leave Jaemin, urgently seeking out some answers or literally anything that could explain his situation. 

 

Jaemin nods coldly, stands up and leaves the room without uttering a single word, leaving Mark with more questions than he originally had and a broken vampire by his side.

 

—

 

“You know who the vampire is,” Mark pulls open the door to Jaemin’s room, feeling the anxious feelings the boy was promoting from inside of there, in his own chest. “He called you Nana.”

 

The room is silent and hardly lit, struggling sunlight crawling between the blinds is the only source of light. Despite being so dim, it is pretty easy to navigate because Jaemin is in love with bright colors and the adoration reflects on his choice of furniture. Without a second thought, Mark makes his way over to the king-sized bed placed in the center of the room to flop down next to the hurdled up figure.

 

“His name is Jisung,” Jaemin speaks out, voice muffled due to the fuzzy blanket being wrapped around his body, including his mouth. When he goes silent again, Mark gives him the space he needs to feel comfortable enough about opening up, which he knows will happen eventually. After a long, silent pause, Jaemin turns around to face Mark’s half lying down body. “We met each other two years ago at a dancing class.”

 

Mark can’t hide his surprise at Jaemin’s confession. In their life-long friendship and seven years of  _parabatai_ bond, Jaemin has never once mentioned going to a dancing class, or even liking said activity. But, questions such as this one has to wait because there are more important subjects at hand. “I take it he wasn’t a shifting vampire when you first meet him?”

 

Jaemin shakes his head, the movement being slightly tampered with due to the blanket being in the way. “He was as boring as any other mundie,” he sighs out with a sad, reminiscing smile twitching at the corners of his lips. It seems as if the smile was there as a way to defuse the intense situation but it washes away as quickly as it was painted on his lips. “Bright kid with so many aspirations.”

 

“He is still the same person,” Mark attentively says. It’s words he has heard other people say, yet never tried to spell them out himself. They sound weird coming from his mouth, and they feel even weirder on top of his tongue. 

 

“You sound so much like Taeyong,” Jaemin chuckles. He moves around in the bed until he is in an upright position. “You can't be the same person when your heart stops beating and your diet consists of blood, right?”

 

''Jaemin,'' Mark physically feels the storm that is currently ongoing inside Jaemin's mind and heart. Whoever Jisung was must've been someone important to him, and now he is no longer that person, at least not in a practical sense. Jaemin's internal conflict isn't far fetched. Shadowhunters are believed to not engage with downworlders outside from policing them, to strictly obtain from any personal connections from them — no matter what the Accords say. ''I’m not Taeyong, but even I can realize that whatever he would've said might’ve been appropriate. Jisung is still Jisung, and we — you have to help him before it’s too late,'' Mark shocks himself by saying.

 

Jaemin plays with the bracelet around on his wrist quietly. At this point, the sun has fully risen, indicating a new day — a new start. Bright yellow hues tint the room, making it seem much more alive. Jaemin has always been the one that enjoyed the daylight more than the nighttime. Immediately, his eyes drift to the blinds and without a word, Mark leaves the comfort of the bed to part them, making the sunlight invade the room properly. The large deep purple bags under Jaemin's eye become the first thing Mark spots, but instead of mentioning them, he just offers him a small, hopefully reassuring smile. 

 

''I can't just,'' Jaemin's voice breaks, his facial expression morphing into a frail one. ''I can't believe someone _killed_ him for the sake of killing him. He is,'' Jaemin exhales, ''-was so good. He deserves so much better than this cruel, gruesome world. Tell me, Mark, how am I supposed to protect him now when he's like _that_?'' 

 

''Are you really prepared to let him die just because _you_ can't handle it? That's a selfish act of you,'' Mark bluntly asks, knowing he will pain Jaemin with his statement. He feels more comfortable with his choice to save Jisung for each second that passes. This has to be the right decision, it has to be. ''He deserves better than that, Jaemin. I don't doubt that you feel the same way.'' 

 

There's a fire in Jaemin's eyes. Mark can't remember the last time he has seen him cry, let alone look this broken. He stands up from the bed and scrubs his face harshly, before running his hands through his hair, making it look disheveled. The tears become non-apparent by the time he is done, but the redness to his eyes fall short from hiding it. ''He was the only thing I had that was my escape, you know? The only thing I could just rely on outside of this world. He didn't know about all of this and it felt so fucking good sometimes. It's in our nature to contain all these horrible creatures, and I love it I really do, but eventually, we are part mundane, aren't we? We need a break, and now? My break is suddenly a part of what I craved a break _from_.'' 

 

Maybe it's the way the sunshine is swirling in the room, or Jaemin's openly vulnerable state, but all Mark can do is walk up to him, and wrap his arms around his best friend in a soundless hug. It seems as if the hug did what Mark hoped it would because he feels the way Jaemin's head bumps onto his shoulder in a small nod. ''I just want to get that son of a bitch and end him for good. He just made it personal.’'  

 

When they break apart from the hug, several moments later, there's a newfound sparkle in Jaemin's eyes, which he can only name as determination. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't hate me, i promise, the angst will eventually vanish.. (or will it?)... anyway let's all give a hug to jaemin and jisung collectively in the meanwhile.
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/hyuckyan) / [cc](https://curiouscat.me/hyuckyang)
> 
> this chapter's dictionary:  
> accords: peace negotiations signed between the downworlders and the clave  
> stele: tools used to draw runes onto skin, weapons, and other materials to activate/deactivate them


End file.
